


Last Night I Saw A Beauty Queen

by doctor_jasley, gala_apples



Series: S. K. Anon [4]
Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Body Dysphoria, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 07:43:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_jasley/pseuds/doctor_jasley, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't matter if he's surrounded by triggers, as long as Gabe is there to steady his hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Night I Saw A Beauty Queen

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Gasoline by Seether.

Sometimes William doesn’t leave the apartment for days. It’s a tiny room, the kitchen on one side, their bed hidden with folding screens on the other side. The bathroom is the size of the closet he had in Los Angeles, as leggy as he and Gabe are they both nearly break their kneecaps when they sit to have a crap. But if they don’t care about getting water on the floor they can leave the shower door open and still blow each other in the morning, so it’s room enough. At least there’s privacy. The first few places they looked at in their price range had communal bathrooms for the entire floor.

A minuscule apartment is the price you pay for living in the fashion district of Milan. Gabe wouldn’t have let them settle down anywhere else, he always needs to be in the middle of the action. An apartment block with less than three parties isn’t a building worth living in. William knew how it was gonna be when they were still in LA, and he can hardly complain now. After all, Gabe moved here for him.

The apartment is tiny, and he’s stuck with watching American shows downloaded on his laptop as almost everything on tv is in Italian -Gabe’s got a pretty good grasp of the language already, but William knows basic verbs and nouns, not nearly enough to speak or understand sentences- but when he’s in a mood it’s better than going outside. Outside is where the beautiful people walk, and there are days -weeks- when he doesn’t need to see that.

Gabe says he has three moods when it comes to other people. He says he lives in a cycle of critical-despondent-jealous, and William can’t really disagree. He spent long enough in Serial Killers Anonymous to recognise his own issues.

When he’s critical, not even the perfect pieces of art hanging in the centuries old museums can be pretty. He’ll end up bitching about everyone’s physical faults. Once -back when they still lived in the states- he told Kesha she had whore colors in her hair. She’d just sort of looked at him weirdly before shrugging and going back to whatever she was doing at the time. Gabe lets whatever William says roll off his shoulders and occasionally turns up the volume on the radio or tv he’s watching or listening to. 

Despondent is almost akin critical. Only it inverts into itself and William can’t look into a mirror or reflective surface without hating himself. A lot. His hair’s either too shiny or not shiny enough. Nothing is ever right. He can’t wear the properly colored shirt to make his skin tones pop. It makes him feel like a mime sometimes, or conversely one of the clowns who travel with circuses. 

Gabe usually spends those days -or evenings when he’s back in from work or wherever else he was- trying to sex the bad thoughts out of William’s head. Once or twice, Gabe’s even gone as far as to call William the fairest in all the land before snorting like a douche and going back to kissing his neck or fondling him. As distractions go, Gabe’s not bad.

When the jealously decides to kick in, it’s a whole different story altogether. While related to the despondence and criticalness, his jealously is an ugly, violent thing. When he’s jealous all he wants to do is run for the nearest can of hairspray and a fully filled lighter. The girl down the street from him can’t have prettier hair than him if she no longer has any hair to flaunt about. 

Tonight, however, he doesn’t have much of a choice about going out. He has a shift at Chandelier. To this day he still has no idea how Gabe scored two waiter gigs at a classy restaurant, as semi-literate foreigners they should be working at McDonalds. Blowjobs are not out of the question, morality has never been high on Gabe’s list of priorities. But he’s hardly going to complain about whatever method Gabe used, or even that he got demoted from waiter to busboy. Collecting dirty dishes and spraying down tables and setting out new tablecloths is still better than being a burger flipper. 

Gabe can be a total dick about it though. The next time he comes in the kitchen he flashes a bill at William before cramming it in his pocket. “Got twenty euros. I guess they thought I had a nice smile.”

“Oh, fuck your tips.”

“My tips buy us toilet paper and beer, so shut the fuck up.”

It isn’t until the end of the shift that he sees a beauty eating a small portion of pasta. She’s probably a model, in Milan the women always are. Her hair is shaped tall and slicked back, like the rich version of a mullet. It’s black, a far richer shade than his, and her cheekbones are elegant, unlike his own. 

Ignoring the fact that he’s already had his own dinner break, William flees outside for a cigarette. It’s easier, standing by the dumpster, concrete and butts and filth in all directions. It only takes a moment for Gabe to join him, somehow he always knows. He plucks the cigarette out of his hand for his own drag, and then puts it back between William’s still spread fingers.

Finally he breaks the silence. “It’s just, _unfair_. That some people are so beautiful, you know.”

Gabe looks at him for a second, then nods. “Yes. Yes it is. You should fix it.”

Gabe always knows the right thing to say.

William calms down and goes back inside after that. When their shift ends, it doesn’t take long for them to pick up supplies. Gas -or petrol as some call it- isn’t hard to come by. Neither is a commonly sold towel from one of the late night shops always open. Rope would be a bit more difficult, if he still needed it. But with Gabe around to distract his competition, William doesn’t have to restrain them anymore, as long as he can silently creep up behind them.

The model from the restaurant is long gone by now, the remainder of his shift keeping her safe. For the moment, that is. If he sees her again, there’s no telling if he’ll be in the mood to lash out or not and if he is. Well, then, that’s her problem, not his. 

Thankfully, Milan isn’t empty of shiny, perfect people roaming about at all hours. When he’s stuck in jealousy mode the whole city becomes his playground and Gabe stays close enough to watch and smile gleefully when someone’s carefully sculpted eyebrows singe before blackening into something sooty and crisp. 

All he has to do is lean against a shop wall with Gabe standing right next to him and wait for someone to walk by. Once that happens, he can get to work with taking care of making himself feel better. Then maybe he can breathe better for a few days without feeling as if he’s worthless or ugly.


End file.
